Overplayed

Last week, Alrica and I were playing a game. It was from the archives of the NY Times Connections game. You have sixteen words and you have to group them into four categories of four. Four of the words were Donkey, Doolittle, Axel, and Akeem. I realized those were all Eddie Murphy roles. Alrica, who never remembers the names of characters in movies unless they are basically the title character, couldn't remember Axel. So we discussed Beverly Hills Cop.

A couple days after that we decided to rewatch Beverly Hills Cop as each of us hadn't seen it since the 80s, when it came out. The main musical theme in that move is the song Axel F which was written for the movie and named for Murphy's character, Axel Foley. I like the song Axel F. But I have to say, after rewatching that movie I was thinking, "Couldn't they have hired a composer to write one or two other instrumental pieces for different moments in the film?" I mean, unless we were listening to a pop song, the background music was almost always Axel F or maybe once it was a toned down more serious version of Axel F.

Additionally, I remembered that movie being a lot funnier than I found it now. Of course, I was a lot teenagier when I saw it back then, so that could account for the change in the perceived level of humor.

This past Monday, July 20, was Independence Day. Of course, I don't mean in the United States. I mean here in Colombia, July 20 is Independence Day. On Monday itself, things were generally quiet. Independence Day seems to be a time to spend with your family, not in raucous celebrations. But in the week leading up to Independence Day, there was plenty of sound and fury (metaphoric fury.)

Several times during the week, we heard the thundering of drums. They were a bit distant, but as they grew closer we could make out brass instruments. Then as the procession of sound got even closer, we could hear woodwinds.

Parade view from on high

It was a parade. Each time the parade happened, it got bigger. But all three parades (which we could see from our balcony once they got to the street a block from our place) involved bands which were heavy on percussion. The third parade, on Sunday, the day before Independence Day, was the largest. Several bands, different community groups, and members of the military marched through the streets. And through it all, I could only discern two different songs. One of them, I didn't recognize. Perhaps it was the Colombian National Anthem. But the other was The Ants Go Marching One by One (hurrah, hurrah.)

It included horses! Unless that was just coincidence that a bunch of horsemen were riding by at the same time and on the same route as the parade.

I thought that was a strange choice of song. So I looked it up. The tune The Ants Go Marching One by One (hurrah, hurrah) is actually the tune from When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again (also hurrah, hurrah.) That's a song about welcoming back soldiers who are returning home from a war. That makes a bit more sense for an Independence Day parade than a song for children about ants. But this was entirely instrumental, so in my head there were lyrics about ants, shoe-tying, and closing portals such as doors and gates.

On a separate note, I did one of my walking explorations. I saw a man on a unicycle juggling blades in front of traffic as they waited at a red light. I went to what I thought was a park (because it was green on the map) and discovered was a cemetery. That cemetary has the grave of Pablo Escobar, the famous drug cartel leader who is known for corruption and importing hippopotami. I was unable to get a good picture of his grave though because a tour group was visiting.

I wonder what his income per red light cycle is

Ugh! Now I have the song about the ants stuck in my head! Well, if it gets too annoying I will try to wipe it from my mind by humming Axel F.

The Chocolate Olympian

Some things are universal. Okay, that's an overstatement. They are global. They are seen everywhere in the world. You find Coca-Cola everywhere. You can see football (soccer) being played by kids everywhere. Toyota cars are on the roads in every country. And those Toyota cars stop at red octagonal stop signs. (Though in many places, using a stop sign of any sort is a last resort. But when they do, it is red and eight-sided.)

But some of the many things that have spread wide and far haven't conquered the entire world. They are nearly global, maybe globalesque. Think of the metric system. In most countries if I were to say it were seventy degrees outside, I would be dismissed as a madman. (Well, dismissed as an American.)

One product we have found all over the world, but we had never experienced in the United States is Milo.

With way more sugar than you need, says so on the bag!

Milo is a chocolate powder to be mixed in water or milk (much creamier in milk, of course). It was developed by Nestlé to deliver balanced nutrition that kids would love to ingest. It has vitamins and mineral salts and proteins. It was developed in Australia and first introduced there in 1934. Let's just say, it was popular.

The name comes from Milo of Croton, renowned for his massive strength. He was an athlete in Greece (from the city of Croton) who lived in the 6th century BCE. His strength was legendary, comparisons were often made to Hercules. Though a key difference is that Hercules is mythological, whereas Milo is historical. Several historians of the time wrote about him.

Milo was famous as a wrestler. He won the boy's wrestling competition at the 60th Olympics held in ancient Greece. Then eight years later he won men's wrestling. He did so four more times over the next four Olympics. Milo was in his forties when he won at the 66th Olympics.

Though Milo was historical, there are still many legendary stories about him. In particular, the story of his death is questionably apocryphal. Milo loved to show off how strong he was. According to the legend, one day while traveling in the country, he came across a villager who was trying to split a tree stump using wedges and a hammer. Milo asked if he could try to pull it apart with his bare hands. The villager readily agreed and then went off to get them some food.

At this juncture, Milo inserted his fingers into the crack the villager had made. As he struggled and pulled, the wedges came out and the stump closed around the fingers of both of Milo's hands. He couldn't pull them out. It was while Milo was so incommoded that some sort of wild animal or animals came upon him. (In some stories it is a pack of wolves, in others it is a single lion.) Being unable to defend himself, Milo was killed and partially eaten.

But getting back to Milo (the drink, not the wrestler), it has spread across Oceania, Asia, Africa, and South America but never really caught on too much in North America or Europe. In the USA, Nestlé developed a similar, though not identical product they called Quik. They weren't so concerned about filling it with nutrients, just in making it delicious. The goal was to get kids to drink more milk. It was released in 1948. This is 14 years after the launch of Milo. Why didn't Nestlé just bring Milo over? I have no idea.

In 1950, Quik was introduced in Europe, but they called it Nesquik there. In 1999, they changed the name to Nesquik everywhere it was sold.

The two products have some key differences, like what minerals and vitamins are or are not included. But there is a textural difference too. Nesquik dissolves completely, leaving you with a fully liquid chocolate milk. Milo always has undissolved flakes which add some texture and crunch. That's considered a positive feature in the more Milo obsessed parts of the world. One popular variant of the drink, called either Milo Dinosaur or Milo Volcano, is to make Milo and then heap a big pile of the undissolved powder in a cone on top of it and enjoy it that way.

Perhaps the most important distinction is where you can get Milo versus where you can get Nesquik. Both are available at grocery stores for you to make at home. But Milo is a popular drink served in many restaurants. You can order Hot Milo or Iced Milo. (Milo is always made hot so the powder will mostly dissolve. It can then be iced to be served cold.)

While Milo is found in some many places, and the name is always Milo, the pronunciation varies. In Australia, where it began, it is pronounced MY-low, much like how an English speaker would pronounce the name Milo. In South America it is pronounced MEE-low, because the letter i would be pronounced ee. In East Asia is it mee-LOW with the stress on the second syllable. And the LOW is held out, sort of saying mee-LOOOW.

I learned this when I was trying to order it once in Cambodia. I did eventually get what I wanted, but it was the vendor at the drink stand who educated me as to the the correct way to pronounce the beverage name.

Recognizing that I have probably already tried the patience of my readers going on this long about a chocolate beverage, let me assuage your patience with pictures of pretty flowers I saw here in Colombia today.

Did it work? Did the assuagement work? Or are you now thirsting for a refreshing Iced Milo. Just be careful not to get your fingers caught inside. That's when the wolves and the lions come.

Rock, Stock, and Burro

We took a trip yesterday out of Medellín. We headed east and visited several sites. We got to see a view atop a rock, a decorated block, a dock, livestock, and a squawking, walking flock.

Can you say "sore knees?"

Our tour took us to La Piedra. This literally means "The Rock" or "The Stone". La Piedra is an inselberg. That means an isolated rock hill or small mountain. This particular inselberg was formed around 65 million years ago in a volcanic eruption. It is mostly hard granite and it has resisted erosion better than the surrounding landscape, so it sticks up all alone. It is also called El Peñon de Guatapé. Guatapé is the municipality it is found in.

One of the views from the top

The indigenous people of this part of Colombia, the Tahamí, worshipped the rock. Whether or not any of them ever climbed it is not recorded in history. The first official ascent to the top of the rock was in 1954. It took three men five days to do it. One of those men, Luis Eduardo Villegas López, saw the view from the top and had an idea. He bought the land that contained the rock and the nearby area from the local farmers. The farmers were glad to get some money for it. It was useless for farming.

Another view from the top

Villegas López then built two sets of stairs into a crack that goes up one side of the rock. He opened it up to tourism, and it worked. The Villegas family still owns the land and makes their living off of tourism.

Some islands are connected by bridges, but not most

Alrica sensibly decided to remain in the restaurants and tourism spots at the base. My daughter and I have less sense. We paid for the right to climb 708 stairs up to the top. We were rewarded with spectacular views of the surrounding lake, the dam, and the mountains that surround the area. We were also rewarded with accelerated heart rates and jelly legs.

More of those disconnected islands

The lake is pretty interesting. It isn't a natural lake, but was formed when the Colombian government had an idea. (Having an idea is a bit of a running theme here.) They decided to build a hydroelectric dam. But there was a town beside the river, Guatapé. The government made everyone in the town move two kilometers upstream. They gave displaced families a house, or if you were a widow or single, you got money. The locals were furious. They were in the flat area where they could best grow their big crop, the tomato. While they weren't moved far, it still meant giving up the best land.

Zocalo of a stubborn donkey, probably how the citizens felt

The lake stretches many kilometers. In the area near La Piedra, it forms islands, pockets of land that were hills before it was all flooded. Today, those islands are luxury locations and places for the very wealthy to build homes. I can see the appeal. Not only is it lovely, but this is not that far from the equator. There isn't a lot of seasonal variation, and they never have winter. So you can enjoy the water year round.

So many beautiful colors

After we left La Piedra, we visited the new site of Guatapé. The village is very interesting. The walls of this new town were built with a mix of clay, cow manure, and cow's blood. But the bases of the walls were reinforced with concrete. After the homes were built, one man, José María Parra Jiménez, had an idea. Parra Jiménez decided to decorate the base of his home with bas-relief panels depicting a lamb. This was symbolic of Jesus. Others in the town loved this and asked if Parra Jiménez could make something similar for them. But not just lambs. At the homes of bakers, the bas-relief showed ovens and bread. At the homes of farmers, they often showed livestock or farming or crops. Some homes had geometric designs. Some had fishing poles.

The lambs that started it all

Sure enough, the building inside is a bakery

These panels are called zócalos. That surprised me a little bit, because in Mexico the Zocalo is the center square or plaza of a city. But here it refers to the panels. Now, almost every building in Guatapé is painted in bright bold colors and has zócalos along its base.

Cameras

This is a Stationery of the World store. I like the globes.

In the center of Guatapé on one side of the Parque Principal is a church, La Iglesia de Nuestra Señora del Carmen. This also has four panels on it, one beneath each of the four pillars. (I'm not sure if these panels count as zócalos or not.) The four panels are dedicated to four saints, the authors of the four gospels. San Mateo displays a human head. San Marco displays the head of what I thought was maybe a dog or a wolf. (I was wrong.) San Lucas displays the head of a bull. And San Juan displays the head of an eagle. I wondered, why three animals and one human? I did a bit of research and found out this is Catholic symbolism called the tetramorph. I also learned that what I took to be the head of a dog for San Marco is actually a lion. Well, a lion's head.

The church and its four panels

San Mateo

San Marco

San Lucas

San Juan

We were supposed to have a boat tour on the lake. And we did have the start of the boat tour. There were announcements over speakers, first in Spanish, and then in English, telling us about the things we were seeing. We had just learned about the big cross sticking out of the lake. It was the site of the church in the original city of Guatapé which had been demolished to flood the land. But the English language announcement was cut off mid-sentence. There was a medical emergency. At one point, our tour guide got on the PA system and asked if there were any American doctors on board. (She did say "American doctors" but I suspect all she really wanted was a doctor who spoke English.)

The Cross on a pillar in the lake

As you might guess, the boat ride was cut short. From another announcement asking if anyone on board had any sweets, I suspect the medical emergency had to do with someone who was diabetic. I did see the woman who had fallen, and she was so pale, like white as my dry-erase whiteboard.

Alpaca eating, wants nothing to do with me

Our last stop was at a petting zoo with lots of animals and baby animals. This included many South American animals like alpacas, llamas, and guinea pigs. But we also saw ostriches, pigs, donkeys, goats, burros, sheep, chickens, geese, ducks, and horses.

Ostrich babies also want nothing to do with me

Even the pig seems unconcerned with my existence

From there we headed back to Medellín. We stopped at a restaurant in the city and watched much of the Argentina vs Cape Verde soccer game. It went into "overtime" which is called "extra time" and we left before that ended. We wanted to be home before the Colombia vs Ghana game began. Colombia won, which is great, but it did mean another night of going to sleep to the sound of horns honking. Though I wonder what we would have heard had they lost?